


The Little Things In Life

by Linyah



Category: Teen Titans (Animated Series)
Genre: F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst, Friendship/Love, Reader-Insert, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-27
Updated: 2013-10-27
Packaged: 2017-12-30 15:53:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1020549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Linyah/pseuds/Linyah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every day you would sit atop the roof of the orphanage, calmly observing the people below with some paint and a canvas. Painting was your passion, it was what you lived for, and it was the only thing you were good at. However, no matter how good you were or how hard you practiced, you couldn’t capture everything you saw. You couldn’t get the colours bright enough. You couldn’t make your work come to life.</p><p>That is, until you met him.</p><p>"Hi, I'm Kid Flash. Fastest boy alive."<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. What's Your Name?

**Author's Note:**

> I do not claim ownership over Teen Titans or you.

The sounds of traffic, from the bustling streets below, cut through the calm early morning. Arguing people, car horns, blaring speakers, and engine rumble danced together like a familiar symphony that changed ever so slightly with each passing day. The fleeting hues of reds, golds, blues, and silvers shone brilliantly beneath the hovering sun. As the large star in the sky faded each day, giving way to the ivory moon, it would take with it the colors you loved dearly. Within this concrete jungle of towering metal and sparse greenery, you were but a speck of dust in comparison. You were nothing but an ant that could die the next day. No one would be the wiser for there were always new babies being born and young children who needed tending to. The adults wouldn't miss a bothersome, orphaned girl like you. 

No matter, there were better things to think about. For now you would settle with capturing the brilliant colours before they would fade away again. Picking up the brush and pallet, you were determined to capture the illusive scene bellow. It wouldn't last very long, and you were resolute to do it justice. 

From the altitude of which you sat, everything looked smaller except the towering sky scrapers that shadowed over you like monstrous giants. You began with the ground using streaks of warm grey to create depth. The buildings were shining blocks of silver, copper and gold. Cars became small blocks that sat bumper to bumper, congesting the street from as far as the eye could see. People were nothing but small specks upon your canvas. People were so interesting from up here. Every day, you would always see the same people and it was so fascinating to watch them go about their business. 

For instance, there was a sharply dressed woman who always sat at the park bench at lunch. You never saw her wear anything but black and her hair was always tied back neatly. She would talk on her cell phone and eat her lunch at the same time before it was time to go back into the brick building across the street.

Oh! There also was the gruff old man who sat on the sidewalk. He would walk about during the day, approaching anyone who drifted within arms distance holding up a sign you couldn't quite read. He slept on the sidewalk, disappearing from day to day only to reappear when you had thought he would never come back. He was a compilation of dirty browns and greens, and judging from how the people avoided him, these colors were there for good reason.

A flash of yellow and red caught your eye for the third time this week. Right, you had almost forgotten him. There was also a teen that popped up from time to time. He called himself Kid Flash from what it said on the internet. Now, unlike the man you saw on the television who called himself _The_ Flash, this person wore yellow and looked a lot younger than the super heroes you were familiar with. This boy was a seldom sight around here, but you had seen him enough to recognize him. You didn't know much about him besides his alias, and that he liked to eat a lot. He was also crazy fast! He was so fast in fact that you sometimes made it a game to see if your eyes could catch him while he was moving at top speeds. Of course that never happened, but it never stopped you from trying. He paused at the fruit display in the front of the old grocery store. Snacking on an apple, and taking one for the road, he was off again. 

Wait, never mind, he came back to sneak another piece of fruit- the other two apples already finished. And as if he knew you were watching, he looked skyward in your direction. Tilting his head to the side, he put up a hand to shield his eyes from the bright sun, and as if he saw a familiar face, he waved.

Wait.

He waved?

Blinking in surprise, you pivoted in your seat, turning in every direction to see what he was looking at. There was nothing on the roof to your left, nor to the roof on your right. There was no one behind you or around you in any direction. You were alone on the empty roof top, only the pigeons that perched upon the telephone wire kept you company. When you looked back to the small store front, the speedy teen had already left, leaving an angry old woman in his wake.

Maybe he waved at a kid in the windows of one of the floors below you. Giving a pout, you turned back to your canvas, wet brush in hand. You would have liked to observe the strangely dressed teen a little more. He was a lot more interesting to watch compared to the business lady and the homeless man. 

"Hey, that looks pretty good. It could use a little more red over here, but other than that I'd say you got a real talent." Standing behind you, the teen dressed in yellow and red observed your painting with a critical eye. 

The paint brush you once held in your hand was now in his. Instead, you gripped a luscious red rose.

When did he-?

"Y-you....You're..."

He gave you a playful smile. "Yeah, I get that a lot." His beautiful green eyes sparkled with life. "Let me introduce myself. Hi, I’m Kid Flash. Fastest boy alive."


	2. Gimme A Break

The sounds of traffic from the bustling streets below resonated through the city in waves during the mid-afternoon. Arguing people, car horns, blaring speakers, and engine rumble danced together like a familiar symphony that changed ever so slightly with each passing day. Hues of blue, orange, and silver shone brilliantly beneath the hovering sun. As the large star in the sky faded each day, giving way to the ivory moon, it would take with it the colors you loved dearly. Within this concrete jungle of towering metal and sparse greenery, you were but a speck in comparison. You were nothing but an insect that could disappear the next day. No one would be the wiser for there were always new babies being born and young children who needed tending to. The adults wouldn't miss a bothersome, orphaned, girl like you. 

Humming to yourself, you pressed your brush against the painted canvas, streaking a golden line across the plane. 

Your eyes squinted against the unrelenting sun above you. All the regular citizens you would usually see, were absent from the scene below, probably due to the weather. This was the hottest time of the day after all, and with the concrete reflecting all the heat back into the atmosphere, it was almost unbearable. Huffing against the humidity, you readjusted the hat atop your head and wiped the sweat from your brow. A part of you pleaded to move inside where the cool air conditioning awaited you. The stubborn side of you kept you seated in the stool in front of your canvas with your palate in one hand and your brush in the other. You wanted to say you were almost done, but whenever you stepped back to look at it, you would always find something missing. It wouldn't sparkle like the scene below, or move like the scene below. It wasn't right. It wasn't _alive_. 

Without taking your eyes from your canvas, you placed your palette on the table. Streaking a white wash over a silver square with your brush, you blindly searched for your warm can of soda with your other hand. Deftly ghosting over the other materials on the table, careful not to knock anything over, you continued to feel for the seemingly missing can. 

Biting your lip, you leaned further across the table in search of your drink. 

Furrowing your brow, your almost glared at the picture before you. It wasn't turning out like you wanted. 

"Here you go." Feeling a cold metal can within reach, you grasped the object between painted fingers before straightening yourself. 

"Thanks," you mumbled before popping the tab and taking a small sip. A soft sigh of contentment slipped through your lips as you felt the refreshing drink cool you. Pursing your lips, you cocked your head to the side. Maybe if you lightened the sky a bit, it would give a starker contrast? 

Pressing the cold can against your cheek, you deliberated your options. 

Wincing slightly against the coldness in your hand, you frowned. Why was your can cold? You had opened it over three hours ago. Pulling it away from you, you finally took your attention away from your canvas to inspect the strange anomaly. It was the same kind of drink you had brought with you, except it seemed fresh out of the fridge. Testing the weight in your hand only confused you more. It was full too. 

"What the hell...?" You mumble underneath your breath, clearly baffled. 

" On a hot day like this, I figured you could use a cold one." 

Feeling your heart skip a beat, you turned to meet the gaze of the new speaker. His shining emerald eyes danced playfully as they met your own. His tuft of copper hair peeked above the yellow crown of his uniform to puff slightly up front before slicking back. 

"You're back again?" The last time you had met him, he had introduced himself, with a rose and a smile. He had insisted on watching you work for a little while, standing behind you silently before his work called him away. Taking another sip of the soda, you could feel the carbonated drink tickle your throat. "Not to seem rude, but shouldn't you be out catching bad guys or something?" 

He gave a lopsided smile, scratching his cheek sheepishly. "I may be one of the best, but even I need a break sometimes." Giving your form a once over, his smile dwindled slightly. "Speaking of breaks, it looks like you need one. Care to join me?" 

"I think I'll pass for right now." Turning back to your painting, you huffed to see that it hadn't changed at all. You were starting to get tired of looking at it. "I need to finish this." 

Moving to your side, he eyed your work with what seemed to be a critical eye. Pressing his knuckle to his chin, he hummed in thought. "You have a really cool cubism effect going on here." Blinking brightly at the teen, you were slightly taken back. You hadn't taken him as the artsy type at all. "It's kind of reminiscent of Braque's work, but a little less deconstructed. I like it." 

Flushing slightly at his complement, you tore your gaze from his. "Th-thanks..." 

With your attention turned away from him, you missed how he looked at your from the corner of his eye. You missed the playful smile pull at his lips and the glittering energy behind his gaze. "Well," he began. "If you insist on staying here, at least let me get you something." 

A strong gust of wind nearly threw you off balance as the teen disappeared off the side of the building in a flash. He came back just as fast with a black beret on his head and a white box in hand. "Croissant?" he offered. Before you could respond, he was off again, barely giving you enough time to catch the falling pasty in your hands. "Cannoli?" he asked returning the second time with a little pink box and adding it to the box already in your hands. 

"Wh--" 

"Oh I know!" A flash of red and yellow zoomed past you. But he was back before your mind could comprehend that he had even left to begin with, a brown paper bag in one hand and a bag of chips in the other. "What about a sub sandwich?" 

Staring at him wide eyed. Going between the boxes in your hands and the teen in front of you, you blinked in astonishment. Finally, after a small silent period, you gave a defeated sigh, "Alright, alright. I get it." 

To think he had gone to such a length to make to take a break. Giving him a smile, you moved to sit cross legged on the roof top, gesturing for him to follow. 

Sitting across from you, he pulled the beret from his head to reveal his soft copper locks once more, and looked at you inquisitively. "So, is this a 'yes' to the break?" 

Laughing at his lost expression, you nodded. Despite the heat, you suddenly felt refreshed with his company. "Yeah, let's take a break."


End file.
